


Surprise! It’s a Sex!Chair! - Part Four

by ladydragon76



Series: Sex!Chair [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fanfiction, Genre: PWP, KINK: bondage, M/M, Rating: NC-17 - Freeform, character: autobot ensemble, kink: denied/delayed overload, kink: exhibitionism, kink: public sex, kink: rape fantasy, kink: risk of being caught as a turn on, kink: surprised by unexpected sex, kink: voyeurism, series: sex!chair, smut: sticky, verse: g1, warning: canon- what canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> A tfanonkink request fill.  The request can be found <b> <a href="http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=9312222#t9312222">here</a> </b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprise! It’s a Sex!Chair! - Part Four

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Or in this case, the list of kinks: Risk of being caught as a turn on (as opposed to actually being caught or watched), denied/delayed overload, rape fantasy, exhibitionism, voyeurism, bondage, public sex, and being surprised by an unexpected sexual situation. Everything in this fic is fully consensual, but the rape fantasy is pretty hardcore. Sticky, and includes a dose of head!canon.  
>  **Notes:** *snickers* This really was just fun to write.

**Title:** Surprise! It’s a Sex!Chair!  
 **‘Verse:** G1  
 **Series:** Sex!Chair  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Pairings:** SexChair/Multiple Mechs  
 **Summary:** A tfanonkink request fill. The request can be found **[here](http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=9312222#t9312222) **.  
 **Warnings:** Or in this case, the list of kinks: Risk of being caught as a turn on (as opposed to actually being caught or watched), denied/delayed overload, rape fantasy, exhibitionism, voyeurism, bondage, public sex, and being surprised by an unexpected sexual situation. Everything in this fic is fully consensual, but the rape fantasy is pretty hardcore. Sticky, and includes a dose of head!canon.  
 **Notes:** *snickers* This really was just fun to write.

 

**Surprise! It’s a Sex!Chair!**

 

“Gentlemechs!” Jazz called out over the crowd waiting to enter the common room, arms up and out for attention. “Music and high grade on just the other side of this doorway.”

A cheer went up, and Jazz allowed it for a moment, smiling, then raised his arms higher in a call for quiet. “So is-“ There was a drum roll from Blaster’s speakers, and Jazz chuckled. “The Chair.”

The crowd hushed, almost reverent, the air suddenly thick with anticipation.

Jazz stood still a moment longer, a smirk curling his mouth, then stepped back and aside, bowing with a sweeping gesture. Autobots stampeded into the common room, music started, loud and bass booming. Some mechs refused to sit anywhere, others prodded at each chair gingerly, and still a few others rushed around like mad, dropping their afts into every chair they could reach.

It was Beachcomber that finally cried out as his wrists were caught and clamped to the arms of the chair he had carefully sat in. There were some groans of disappointment as that revered, vibrating paddle came up between the small geologist’s legs. His visor flashed, mouth open in a soft ‘O’.

“Ya know how to get outta that, right?” Jazz asked over the speaker system so he’d be heard.

Beachcomber flicked the fingers of his right hand out, then slumped back into the chair, apparently in no hurry to escape despite his cautious checking for a place to sit. In no time at all his panel was open, helm back, and a look of quickly heating arousal on the visible part of his face.

Some mechs watched, others grabbed a partner to play with instead, or as well, and still others ignored the show, and began dancing and drinking.

It was quite the surprise when Mirage, cube of high grade held in his hand sat down, then yelped loud enough to carry over the music. The cube went flying as his wrists were clamped to the chair’s arms. His optics went comically wide.

The room went still, the music stopping, then everyone was looking back and forth between Beachcomber and Mirage.

“Two?” Perceptor asked Wheeljack, who only shook his helm.

Beachcomber solved the mystery, by bucking his hips. “Hound! Please!”

The chair under Beachcomber shimmered and resolved itself into Hound with as sheepish a look on his face as a mech with his thoroughly spiked lover in his lap could manage. There was a burst of laughter and applause, and then optics swung toward Mirage.

“There’s a little button-“ Wheeljack began, taking a hesitant step forward to help Mirage out.

“I know where it is.” Mirage looked around. The only sound as they all watched him was Beachcomber’s increasingly frantic moans, and the buzzing from the plate working diligently between the noble’s thighs. “Oh turn the music back on already! And stop staring!” Mirage promptly engaged his electro disruptor and winked out of sight.

The music was turned back on, and not terribly long after Beachcomber’s voice arced above it in a long wavering cry.

After that, much of the attention was turned to the chair Mirage had sat in. The spy might have been invisible, but that only seemed to increase the interest. The chair slowly cycled up through devices. There was a cheer as a cylinder swung up, then worked up and down, the lower portion fading and returning to sight as it entered and exited Mirage’s field. The same happened with the artificial spikes. The control arm remained, and everyone could see it working back and forth. Everyone could see the growing puddle of lubricant on the seat as well.

Unnoticed by those enthralled, the music volume lowered to the point that soft moans could be heard. Then archaic words few knew babbled with a music all their own from a lyrical voice. In a corner booth, Prime’s optics went wide, his vents cycling on, one of the very few in the common room that knew the language and understood the risqué words.

They broke on a sharp, “Oh! Oh yes! Ah!”

The ragged sound of a couple dozen cooling fans filled the air as the keening tapered off. The chair clicked softly as it returned to its seemingly innocent form, and a moment later Mirage shimmered back into view. Debauched, legs sprawled apart, array slick and shining with lubricant and transfluid.

Someone’s shuddering moan echoed, followed by a gasp and muffled moan.

Mirage blinked dazed, dim golden optics at them, then primly crossed one leg over the other knee, and remained slumped there in the chair.

The party got back under way. Mirage even managed to stir himself enough to accept a replacement cube of high grade from Jazz.

Soundwave remained hidden amongst the stereo equipment, and continued his surveillance.

~ | ~

**_Whoever has my damn chair better comm me, because if I have to go looking for it, I promise you, I’ll never share it again no matter how much you fraggers beg! And there will be welding. Oh yes, slagheads! Welding and reformatting!_ **

Optimus sighed as Ratchet’s voice blared over the intercom. //Prowl-//

// _I heard. I’ll begin contacting the usual suspects._ //

//Thank you. Prime out.//

~ | ~

Megatron paced around the innocuous looking chair. It looked exactly like every other chair in the Ark. He snorted. Autobots. No appreciation of aesthetics. As was apparent by their _orange_ walls.

Not that Megatron thought function should be sacrificed for beauty, but if one could have a little variety, why not?

He circled the chair again. He knew how it worked. Had carefully watched Soundwave’s footage, and had it looked over -and thoroughly cleaned up- by the Constructicons to be certain he knew all there was to know without capturing the explosion-prone inventor to explain it.

He retracted his last thought about the Autobots. Clearly their creativity ran in different directions. Who would have ever expected a simple spying mission to uncover an orgy? Then again, they were Autobots. Decadence was in their nature.

He waved his hand as though brushing away the thought, and stepped in front of the chair. A zinging little thrill shot across his sensornet, and he glanced at his door. The lock was engaged and the only mech who would dare bother him while he was in his quarters was busy sulking in his own.

Megatron smirked. Maybe he should strap Starscream into this and see if a good overload or five improved his temperament any. Well. After he had a ride first.

He turned, and braced for just about anything, sat.

~ | ~

The End

**([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) ) ******


End file.
